


Prelude to Truth

by bactaqueen



Series: Truth [1]
Category: AFI
Genre: M/M, Pre-Relationship, fantasy fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2014-09-10
Packaged: 2018-02-16 21:54:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2285766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bactaqueen/pseuds/bactaqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam has kept his truths close because no one has asked him to reveal them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prelude to Truth

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual people or events is entirely coincidental.
> 
> Author's Note: Originally posted May 2005.

The day surrendered to the encroaching night. After a twenty-hour battle, Adam Carson sighed heavily and surrendered to the encroaching emotions that Davey Havok had stirred from their latent existence, emotions that he had endured for so long that they had become thread in the very fabric of his being. Adam tipped his head back against the fat couch cushion and closed his eyes. His body was slouched comfortably, his long legs stretched before him, his ankles crossed on the low coffee table. He folded his arms over his chest. Adam sank into his thoughts, and as the old familiar feelings of bitter frustration surged, his nostrils flared.  
  
Davey's decision to publicly confirm his sexual orientation meant a world of trouble for the band. It ensured that the singer would be the subject of conversation--would hold the fucking monopoly--for at least the duration of the next tour. It might overshadow the release of the new album. It might increase record sales. As far as a frustrated and slighted Adam was concerned, all it meant was that Dave had secured his place as the center of attention for at least another summer. He was providing no chances for anyone else to edge in and steal his spotlight.  
  
Not even Jade. Adam chuckled darkly, knowing that now that Davey was out, Jade had nowhere to hide. Adam considered Jade's sexual orientation to be an open secret. Of course he'd never publicly admitted it, and he likely never would; Jade was far too shy for that. Jade thought his secret was safe.  
  
His secret was nowhere near as safe as Adam's. Alone on his couch, Adam shifted uncomfortably. A deep frown creased his brow. For fifteen years now, his secret had remained unsuspected and unspoken. Jade was in danger of true exposure; Adam was not. Adam was safe because of Jade's open secret, and he hated himself as much for that safety as he hated his closest friends for providing that safety.  
  
Adam knew that in a simple confession, he could have saved himself from so many years of anger that had become bitterness. He could have saved Jade from eight years of self-deception and misery. In a twisted way, Adam almost regretted this, but the memories and the continued examples of insensitivity kept the regret at bay.  
  
Jade Puget could have been his. Adam knew this. But too long ago, Jade had fallen into the habits that had characterized Adam's closest friends and hadn't bothered, on any occasion, to engage Adam in a meaningful conversation about himself. Like Davey, like Hunter, like the rest of his friends, Jade made assumptions about Adam and never sought the truth. It was the truth untold that Adam punished himself with. And Adam did consider his silence to be punishment.  
  
He deprived himself of that which he wanted most out of anger. A decade and a half of allowing people to make their assumptions about him and allowing those assumptions to go uncorrected had left Adam feeling helpless; anger at that helplessness drove his silence. He allowed them to do this to him.  
  
Seeking some form of familiar control, Adam brought to mind an old fantasy. He couldn't have Jade in real life because Jade had never asked to be had. But in a fantasy... In a fantasy, Adam could have what he wanted. He could make Jade see the truth.

 

***

  
Adam opened his eyes and lifted his head. Across the living room, Jade darkened the bedroom doorway, looking as though he'd just woken from a long, lazy nap. His shaggy hair was a tousled mess. Liner smudged around his sleepy bedroom eyes gave him a dark, smoky look. He wore only loose black pajama bottoms that poorly hid the shape of his half-hard dick. A smirk twisted his full little lips as he began to move forward.  
  
"You look down, Adam," Jade remarked when he was standing between the couch and the coffee table, the side of his right calf against the side of Adam's right knee. Jade raked a hand through his messy hair and looked down at Adam. "Can I make it better?"  
  
His words were weighted. Adam understood this. He reached up and cupped Jade's hips with his hands. The fabric of the pants was smooth and Jade's narrow hips were sharp. Adam pulled him down, into his lap, and locked his arms around him, rendering Jade immobile. He snaked one hand up Jade's back to push his fingers through the two-tone hair.  
  
"Yeah," he said, and pulled until Jade's neck was exposed to him.  
  
Soft, warm flesh yielded to Adam's mouth. The taste was musky and hot, skin and sweat and the residue of damp cotton, far more intoxicating that any drink Adam could imagine. Jade groaned thickly when Adam bit particularly hard and tried to press closer, straining against Adam's tight hold and pushing his growing erection against Adam's stomach.  
  
Adam moved his ministrations up until he claimed Jade's lips. He nudged them open and swept his tongue into the wet heat of Jade's sweet mouth. Adam slowed, kissing and biting and licking and tasting, taking everything Jade had to give.  
  
Hands pawed at Adam's shirt but Adam refused to allow its removal. Jade tugged at Adam's hair, then dropped his hands between their bodies to open Adam's pants. He slipped long-fingered hands into the gap in the worn denim and tore his mouth from Adam's, breathing hard. He reattached his lips to Adam's neck and began to stroke the cock in his hands with rough urgency.  
  
Hot breath tickled Adam's ear. "Want you, Adam. Need you so bad. You make me so hot." Jade pressed a quick, hard kiss to Adam's lips and begged, "Please."  
  
Adam said nothing. Almost roughly, he pushed Jade away, forcing him to the end of the couch until he was facing the sliding glass doors with the vertical white blinds that led to the balcony. Adam placed a hand between Jade's shoulder blades and pushed Jade forward until he was leaning over the arm of the black couch. Obviously pleased with the implications of this position, Jade wriggled a little as he reached forward to curl his fingers around the far edge of the end table. Without hesitation, Adam gripped the soft black fabric and yanked the pants down over the curve of Jade's ass; they caught briefly on his erection, making the guitarist moan, before they slid down to his knees. There was the soft sound of tearing fabric when Adam forced Jade's thighs apart, driving one knee between the back cushions and the seat cushions and the other almost off the front of the couch entirely.  
  
Jade didn't seem to notice or care. He arched his back, fully offering his ass. He looked over his shoulder at Adam, through a veil of blond; his dark eyes smoldered. He licked his dry lips.  
  
"Need you so bad." Jade dropped his head and undulated his back. "Want to feel your cock inside me..."  
  
Still silent, Adam moved to kneel on the torn pants, between Jade's legs. He paused to take in the sight of Jade sprawled over the arm of the couch, ass in the air, upper body stretched out, writhing, waiting. Submissive. Adam guided the damp head of his dick to Jade's hole and pushed in--no lube, no preparation. Jade's helpless groan and the tightening of his inner muscles around the invasive cock sent a shudder through Adam. He gripped Jade's hips, keeping his fingers away from Jade's weeping member, and rode hard. He fucked him rough and deep, getting lost in the sensations of smooth skin and hot friction.  
  
Ragged breathing punctuated Jade's dirty words. "So big... So hard..." Jade moaned deeply. "Feels like you're splitting me in half... Don't stop!" Pinned, Jade still managed to hump the arm of the couch. "Please..." he groaned throatily.

 

***

  
In the growing darkness of his living room, Adam was still alone. He came messily over his hand and the front of his t-shirt; the hot weight of his release plastered the threadbare cotton to his stomach. Adam let the empty afterglow take him for only a moment before he grunted disgustedly, dropped his ankles from the coffee table, and leaned forward to strip out of his t-shirt. Already, he felt cold and hollow and bitter.  
  
The tension that had plagued him since Davey's phone call was gone, but at what cost? Adam stood and wiped his hands off on his wadded-up t-shirt, then reached for the universal remote. He upped the volume on the television until the once-quiet apartment was filled with the sounds of screams and chainsaws. He dropped the black remote once again to rest atop a magazine featuring a sailboat on the cover and started out of the living room. It was a complacence devoid of real satisfaction that replaced the tension and anxiety. Adam was vaguely repulsed with himself. After fifteen years, the best he could do was empty fantasies? Wasn't he better than that?  
  
No. Adam passed through the short, narrow foyer and into the small laundry room. He flicked on the lightswitch and threw the wadded-up t-shirt into the hamper. They do this to me, and I let them. I deserve it at this point. He stripped out of the dark green pajama pants, using the soft flannel to wipe the last traces of cum from his skin, then discarded it on top of the shirt. But so do they. He drew a pair of worn Levi's from the dryer and tugged them on. Next came a wrinkled white t-shirt. When Adam was dressed, he left the laundry room, killing the lights as he went.  
  
There was no cure for this, as far as he could tell. He refused to save himself, because saving himself meant saving Jade, and Jade hadn't proven yet that he was willing to be saved. It was a vicious, self-perpetuating cycle, and Adam was trapped. He was helpless. Nothing makes a person bitter like helplessness.  
  
It was as he stood there in the foyer, frowning at the framed platinum record for Sing the Sorrow, that there came the sound of a knock on his front door. Roused from his indulgent self-pity, Adam straightened himself and schooled his features into his standard mask as he moved to the door. He opened it, ready to meet whichever friend had decided to drop by unannounced, ready to be whatever they needed him to be.  
  
There stood the star of all of his fantasies, maybe dressed up a little too much, but looking scared and sad as he held the hot pizza box and the heavy-looking brown liquor store bag. All thoughts of another immediately dissipated from Adam's mind; in that moment, he lived only to make Jade's life easier, to expel the sadness in that strange and beautiful face.  
  
Adam smiled a little as he guessed what must have brought Jade to his door. "Dave finally told you, huh?"  
  
An expression of pain flitted across Jade's features as he swallowed thickly. "I need to talk to you." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.  
  
Adam narrowed his eyes. He didn't like the tone of Jade's voice, dejected and hopeless. It sounded like everything Adam felt. He started to open his mouth, to tell him that whatever it was wasn't that bad and he'd get over it, but he thought better of it. Jade needed to talk, he'd listen. It was what he did. And on the off chance that Jade wanted to ask questions of his own, Adam would be ready with answers.   
  
So Adam pushed the door open wide and waved Jade in. "Come on in, man."  


End file.
